


Facing the Truth

by aleksrothis



Category: Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-24 03:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17697038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: Face is in love with Ton Phanan but is held back by his past and will never admit to it.Ton is in love with Face Loran but doesn't think he has a future to offer him.When the aliens helping them with their mission assume they are together, they have to pretend and it makes them both rethink their assumptions.





	Facing the Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olio/gifts).



> For olio: This was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoy it.

The mission was simple, on paper. Get in, meet the indigenous contacts on whose land Zsinj’s new business was to be built, get escorted to the building site, blow things up and get out of there.

Of course, they knew hardly anything about the natives’ settlement and even less about Zsinj's intentions. The planet of Quettil wasn’t on _Night Caller_ ’s schedule, but the ship’s log indicated Darillian had stopped there a couple of times previously.

Lacking any instructions for who to contact, Grinder had nonetheless been able to identify the most likely business by the large bribes which had been paid to planetary authorities shortly after _Night Caller_ ’s last visit to ‘expedite land surveys’.

The bribes presumably also explained why boundary lines had been redrawn to suggest the site was outside the indigenous Formids’ range. But Face supposed he couldn’t complain too much when it was the nature of the location which had made the Formids willing to deal with the New Republic at all.

The fact that New Republic Intelligence didn’t have much information on said indigenous contacts was less reassuring, especially in combination with the fact their contacts would only allow four ‘guests’ and insisted they should be ‘warriors.’ Intelligence seemed satisfied that fighter pilots should count, and the Wraiths had pulled several such commando missions already. Still, as with most of this campaign, they were going to have to improvise on the ground.

On one level Face was honored that Commander Antilles had selected him to lead the mission, even if it was primarily for his skill in reading body language and, though he wasn't sure how much it would help with a largely unknown alien race, Face was confident he could bluff through pretty much any issues.

At the same time, he wasn't sure he deserved to be in charge. Janson had more experience of leading this sort of mission but the lieutenant hadn't seemed bothered by that and, when asked had shrugged and said he didn’t see his skills being especially useful in this particular situation.

Besides, at least Face had Ton to keep him humble. Intelligence had requested they send someone with knowledge of biology to learn more about their hosts, which meant the Wraiths’ resident doctor, and Ton had loudly boasted of his selection.

Kell and Tyria rounded out their group. Kell for his demolitions skills once they reached the site, Tyria as their stealth expert, to get them there in the first place and out again. Plus Kell had faith in her ‘hunches’ even if she didn’t, convinced they were examples of Force skill and Face was inclined to agree with him.

On the other hand, Face wasn't sure he was looking forward to spending the next few days around them and their new-found happiness. It wasn't fair, and it was probably an improvement on their previous pining, but surely he could be forgiven when his own situation wasn't going to work out so well. He was fairly certain Ton had no idea how he felt and it was probably safer to keep it that way.

The mission timing would be tight too; if they missed their scheduled pick-up they would have to lay low while the other Wraiths made their meeting with the _Hawkbat_ and, if that was after the completion of their task, they might well have planetary security looking for them.

Their limited briefing told them that their hosts didn't have much of a spoken language of their own and it was one that was not easily produced by humans, consisting mainly of clicks. Ton explained the Formids were somewhat capable of Basic, but mainly communicated through pheromones, body language, and a pseudo-telepathy.

“They can read minds?” Kell asked, with some concern in his tone.

“Hey, you're the one dating a Jedi,” Ton said.

Tyria objected but Ton shook it off elaborating, “The Formids don’t really read minds, but they like people to believe they can. A bit like Face here really.”

Face, distracted by watching Ton as he gestured animatedly, clearly into his subject matter, didn't react as quickly as he should but he still recognized his cue, “Hey, I resemble that remark.”

Kell patted him on the shoulder in fake reassurance. “It's alright, we know you're special.”

“Anyway,” Ton continued. “Their ability is similar to what Face does in interpreting body language. With touch they get a bit closer but it's still reading emotions more than actual thoughts, maybe surface impressions. The xenobiologists are split between it being a natural sense or perhaps a minor Force sensitivity.”

Tyria looked disgruntled. “Great. A whole face of beings better at using the Force than me.”

Kell's expression said he wanted to object but at that point they had to strap in as they entered the planet’s atmosphere, preparing to take evasive manoeuvres if the planetary defenders turned out to be more alert than their intelligence suggested.

They were dropped a short distance from their goal, a series of tunnels burrowed into the hills into which Zsinj’s business was intending to quarry, and hiked the last few klicks to the locals’ warren to avoid drawing attention. Tyria ensured they didn’t leave any tracks which could be followed.

When they reached their destination, Face wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, something rustic perhaps; unfinished earth, and cold, damp, dark passageways. What they found instead, hidden behind a curtain of creepers, was warm and welcoming. The surfaces of the main passageway had been sculpted into intricate geometric designs, with shelves carved out holding lamps every 100 metres or so.

They were met by three Formids, tall, slender insectoids standing on oddly jointed legs with two pairs of arms. All three were dressed in brightly colored loincloths in reds, greens and yellows which seem to complement the colors on their carapaces. “I am Drikh’ket,” the apparent leader said, stepping forward to the Wraiths. “We greet you,” they said in stilted, accented Basic, mouthparts clicking together, and it was clear they were both unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the words.

Face returned greeting with equal formality, “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He introduced himself and his companions then accepted the Formids’ welcoming handshake and the rest of the Wraiths’ followed suit. He felt a warm sensation run through him from the point of contact and found himself starting to relax.

Their hosts’ initial coldness changed almost immediately after shaking the Wraiths’ hands, they suddenly became more animated, turning to each other with excited gestures. Face would be more confident in the success of their reception if he knew what it was the Formids had determined about them. He was pretty sure they considered it a good thing, but that might not mean the Wraiths would too.

He sensed eagerness through the hand on his arm which encouraged him further into the tunnels. They passed a crossroads and, without the sound or light changing, it suddenly felt more occupied. There was a welcoming aroma, something Face couldn't quite identify but smelt of home.

The four Wraiths were led into a dining hall and guided to the one who must be the Formids leader, much larger than the others and a bright shade of blue.

“Our Queen Zeka’cha,” Drikh’ket announced and, on a sign from their escorts, the queen greeted them warmly and encouraged them to take seats at her side, other Formids being moved to make room for them at the head table.

They were separated, Kell and Tyria on one side of the queen then Face and Phanan on the other, on wider stools clearly meant for two. At least, when Face looked around he could see some of the Formids sitting in pairs and others alone, but maybe they took up less space as they were kind of pressed together. Not that Face objected when it was Ton’s warm side he was pressed up against, he just hoped Ton wouldn't mind.

Food was brought out, large plates of tubers and greens, and they tucked in. Between courses, the queen turned to speak to first Kell and Tyria and then to Face and Ton. Looking at the hand she laid on Ton’s arm, Face was forcibly reminded of the Formids’ alleged telepathy.

Once the main course was over, dessert platters of fruits, honeyed nuts and cream followed, and then, responding to some wordless gesture by the queen, more servers followed carrying two large and intricately carved goblets, each with two handles.

The appearance of these vessels seemed to provoke extreme excitement across the rest of the room, a chittering spreading from Formid to Formid. One was placed in front of each pair of Wraiths and, without words, they were encouraged to face each other and each take one of the handles in their left hand before drinking from it, one after the other.

Looking down the table, Face could see Kell and Tyria were clearly at ease, happy to go along with the tradition, staring into each other’s eyes. He looked at Phanan, who shrugged in response.

It was awkward, meeting Ton’s eyes over the run of the cup felt almost intimate. At first they both tried to drink and struggled to suppress smiles, then they tried to offer the cup to each other at the same time and couldn't help laughing.

“Age before beauty?” Face suggested.

Ton narrowed his eye at him. “Beauty before the beast,” he offered drolly.

Not wanting to argue in front of their hosts, Face shrugged. “Okay, third time lucky then.” He drank; the liquid sweet, almost honeyed, but also lightly spiced. Again he felt that wash of familiarity. He tipped the cup towards Ton who sipped and tilted his head thoughtfully as he swallowed, presumably considering the contents.

There was another rush of excitement around the room. This strong reaction to such a simple action made Face worried that they'd somehow accepted some cultural role or responsibility. The prevailing feeling was certainly positive, so they hadn't caused any offence but he would have liked to know what they had agreed to.

“Your pledge is seen,” Queen Zeka’cha pronounced. “We share our blessings on your alliance.”

Face wondered if this was supposed to be a good luck ritual of sorts, and they were losing something in the translation. Perhaps the Formids saw their acceptance as a good omen for the destruction of Zsinj’s venture. He hoped the drink didn’t turn out to be too intoxicating or worse, inimical to humans but detecting that sort of thing was Phanan's job and Face was going to assume he knew what he was doing.

After the banquet, the Wraiths were introduced to their guides for the following day, Tkak’tra and Pekh’tek. They looked young, being smaller with their carapace colors more muted, and also eager.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Face told them.

“Honor is ours,” Tkak’tra, the larger of the two Formids said, insisting on shaking each of their hands with evident pleasure. Her companion seemed more reluctant, but that quickly changed as soon as he had made contact with Face and then Ton.

He looked between them, body language suggesting surprise followed by delight. Then he moved onto Kell and Tyria with new enthusiasm, and repeated the same action and response.

Had he somehow doubted the Wraiths’ willingness to help against the encroachment onto their lands and was now convinced? Or was it something else, some sort of cultural context which Face hadn't yet worked out? What was it about the four of them which was apparently so pleasing to the Formids? He could only hope that whatever the Formids believed was something they were capable of living up to.

Tyria seemed to have figured something out, from the faint smile on her lips, but she wouldn't let Face pull her aside to discuss it, instead shaking her head and turning back to the matter at hand. She didn't seem concerned at least, so Face forced himself to drop it.

Their guides showed them hand-drawn maps showing the extent of their target site, which Tyria compared to the Wraiths’ orbital photos and the plans Grinder had hacked out of the planetary computer. The Formids’ ones had a lot more detail, intricately color-coded, which a little conversation and a lot of complicated miming, was determined to represent the heat signatures of the site.

Being able to pick out where machinery was located would help greatly in targeting their explosives to best effect, though it so didn't tell them exactly what the site was to be used for. High concentrations of medium temperatures probably marked locations where large numbers of workers were gathered together, which the Wraiths also wanted to avoid.

The maps weren't a substitute for their own observations but they should speed up the process; a day or two at most for observation, unless they need longer to work out the site's purpose, then a third day to carry out their plan. Face held out hope they might actually be finished in time to rejoin _Night Caller_ before it had to move on.

Once they had agreed their initial plan for the next day, the Wraiths were led to their assigned quarters. Again, they were separated, Kell and Tyria were led in one direction by Tkak’tra and Face and Phanan in another by Pakh’tek.

Face wondered if he should object but he didn't get any impression of danger from their guides and Tyria just turned back to wave at him so she evidently didn't have any concerns either. Besides, they still had their comm units and the Formids hadn’t given them any indication they even had the capacity to start jamming them.

Face opened the door to find a medium-sized chamber dug out of the earth with the same patterned walls as the entrance corridors and a thick rug on the floor. A large bed-frame stood against the far wall, covered in woven blankets, next to an archway to what looked like an outdated refresher unit. Against another wall was a large wooden chest and there was a desk and two stools against the third wall.

Face looked around again. There wasn’t a second bed. Face turned to tell Pakh’tek there must have been a misunderstanding but he was turning the corner, already out of earshot, if the Formid would even respond to a verbal call. Face considered chasing after him but then again Phanan didn't seem too concerned.

Face turned back to him. “I can sleep on the floor.”

“When we’ve got a mission tomorrow?” Phanan raised a mocking eyebrow at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. The bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Face couldn't really argue. They did both need to be at their best in the morning and the rug didn't look that comfortable. He felt awkward and uncertain what to do next.

Phanan apparently had no such qualms as he started to undress. Face intended to resolutely not look however much he wanted to but Phanan didn't give him the choice.

“I know it must be hard for you to be in the presence of such a great specimen of manhood,” Ton started.

Face instinctively made a snort of disagreement.

“Or, you know,” he continued, “horrified at the very sight of me, the gruesome mixture of machine and man reminding you of the terrible price of war.”

Even though it absolutely gave away his feelings, Face couldn't let Ton think of himself that way. He looked and regretted it, not for the view of Ton’s prosthetic limbs, which were after all covered in synthflesh, with only the joints showing and the faint edges of the access panel seams, but because now he was never going to be able to forget how good Ton looked shirtless.

It made him self-conscious of his own scar. He was privileged to have the choice of whether or not to keep it. It didn't feel right that he could hide his faults when Ton didn't have the same option, especially when his mistakes were so much more egregious.

And Phanan was definitely not unattractive, his neat goatee making him look dashing and his remaining eye gleaming with curiosity. Not that Face wanted to seem shallow, it had been Ton’s personality that had first appealed to him, the instant connection the two of them had made, but he was sure Phanan only saw him as a friend. Face, on the other hand, had soon realized his feelings ran deeper than friendship.

It was only when he tried to be reassuring, saying, “You look fine to me, that is, I mean…” that he realized Ton might have been as insincere about the latter suggestion as the former and he stumbled to an embarrassed pause.

“I never thought I'd see the day I rendered Face Loran speechless with the power of my stunning good looks.” Ton jested.

Only years of acting and lessons in composure kept Face from blushing. “You keep telling yourself that,” he managed to retort.

They settled onto opposite sides of the bed but the comforter wasn't really big enough for that and they found themselves shifting closer. It took a long while for Face to get to sleep, trying to keep himself from curling into Phanan’s warmth. When he woke in the morning, there was an arm around his waist and he instinctively leant into it before remembering where he was and freezing.

He lay still debating whether to try and extract himself and risk waking and embarrassing Phanan or if it would be better to keep still and hope Phanan didn’t realize he’d been awake. Face felt guilty for enjoying the embrace.

There came a knock on the door and Phanan started awake, jumping up and out of bed almost immediately.

Face took the time Phanan spent in the refresher to force himself to bury his feelings down below the mission.

**

Ton woke up gradually, enjoying the warm body against him. Something wasn't quite right but he didn't want to take the time to analyse it. It’d been too long since he spent the night with anyone.

He tried to remember the previous evening as he blinked his eyes open, the mechanical one bringing his surroundings into instant focus and it all came back. The mission, the Formids, the double bed…

Ton tried not to freeze as that seemed more likely to wake Face, lying still for a few long moments trying to breathe steadily until he was saved by a knock on the door. He jumped and pulled away as Face slowly awakened.

“I think that was our morning wake-up call.” He forced himself out of the bed, obnoxiously pulling off the blankets as he went to distract Face from looking too closely at his expression. “Rise and shine!” he said, heading into the refresher.

They were reunited with Kell and Tyria on the way to breakfast. “Did you enjoy your wedding suite?” Kell asked.

Ton blinked at them in confusion and saw the same expression reflected on Face.

“You didn't realize?” Kell sounded delighted.

“They think it's good luck that we're both ‘bonded pairs’,” Tyria explained.

“What? No?” Face seems horrified and, as much as Ton would have liked to tease him for the failure of his observation skills, he didn’t want to think about how quick Face was to reject the idea. Besides, he had to accept the embarrassment of knowing it was probably his unrequited feelings which had given the Formids the wrong impression.

He supposed they had mistaken Face’s friendship with him for mutual romantic affection and then that whole ritual with the drinking cup must have convinced them. As well as being willing to share a bed. Perhaps he should have let Face sleep on the floor after all.

If it had happened to anyone else, Ton knew he would have been the first to crack jokes about it but it hurt to force himself to do the same with Face. “What do you mean, darling,” he laughed, hating how the word came out mocking. “Am I not good enough for you anymore?”

Face turned and glared but then they were back at the dining hall and he clearly couldn’t be seen to show any disrespect to their hosts. Ton watched as his expression blanked and then shifted to something almost tender. “You’re always good enough for me.”

Ton’s heart fluttered even as he privately acknowledged what a great actor Face truly was. Somehow he even managed to keep up the act all the way through breakfast, casual touches and soft smiles, even if Face didn’t quite meet Ton’s eyes when he did so.

He didn’t even let up as the Formids led them through passageways which came out at a vantage point several klicks from the construction site, only stepping out of arm’s reach of Ton once their hosts were out of sight. Ton felt strangely bereft, which he told himself was for the loss of the extra body heat from Face standing so close, but knew was really the reminder that it was just for show.

The rest of the mission went more smoothly than it had any right to. The Wraiths spent the best part of a day staking out the site through lenses, or at least that was what they were supposed to be looking at. Ton spent a lot of the time watching Face watch the site. At the right angle, he got Face’s profile without the scar and he could understand why so many young women had been wild about him as a holo-star.

Ton hadn’t been the target audience for those holo-dramas but that didn’t mean he hadn’t watched several of them. In fact, he’d re-watched a couple since joining the Wraiths, thinking he could use the knowledge for a joke, but instead he’d ended up breathlessly following along, caught up in Face's performance despite the terrible scripts and laughably obvious propaganda.

Even knowing Face was almost certainly older than the characters he was played, Ton had felt guilty for finding him attractive when he’d been already in medical school when those holos came out. Logically, there wasn’t that much difference in their ages but Ton felt far too old for him.

When they met up again with their Formid hosts, Face again resumed that warm expression towards Ton, leaning into his side as they sat and discussed their options.

“I guess the biggest question is how we get in,” Face started.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult to sneak in with a shift change,” Kell said. “It didn’t look as though the guards were checking the papers that carefully. We might need another day though to pick the best shift to do it on.”

“And to check we can leave the same way,” Ton pointed out.

“It’s a shame we can’t dig our way in,” said Tyria, thoughtfully. “Then we wouldn’t have to wait.”

“Possible,” Pekh’tek said.

“You could dig a tunnel that would bring us up inside the site compound?” Face asked.

“Yes, not difficult,” the Formid agreed.

“Could we do it tonight?” Tyria said. “I have a feeling that’s our best chance.”

Tkak’tra even believed they could do so before dusk falls, since there were already a couple of passageways and some storage areas beneath the compound. The Formids had been prepared to collapse them before the diggers broke through but for the moment they were still accessible.

“Doesn’t that go against our intention to keep the Formid’s involvement out of it?” Ton asked, trying to keep his voice down.

Kell shrugged. “We could still leave how we planned. I didn’t spot any security cameras on the front gate so there shouldn’t be much chance of Zsinj’s people realising we didn’t come in the same way.”

“And even then they might think we broke in overnight,” said Face. “It doesn’t look as though they're set up to work through the night.”

He looked to the Formids, who clicked their jaws at each other before Pekh’tek responded, “No. No noise, no heat in dark.”

The Formids dug quickly and efficiently using their strong legs and lower arms. Tyria had a hunch about where they should break through and it worked out perfectly. Below ground it was in the corner of a storeroom, with plenty of space to keep the spoil unnoticed and, once they came out, they found themselves in the shadow of a half-built wall, offering them cover from the guard patrol which walked past only moments later.

They quickly set up positions and, by the time the guards turned and came back, the Wraiths were ready for them. Ton had prepared syringes of drugs to knock them out, since they couldn’t risk the sound of even a stun shot being heard, and they stripped them of weapons, helmets and com units and tactical armor, before dropping the bodies back down the hole for the Formids to dispose of.

Now if anyone happened to look in their direction, they would simply see a group of guards taking it easy, as the Wraiths had observed them doing earlier in between irregular patrols of the compound perimeter.

While Kell set his explosives, the rest of them took it in turns to stand watch or look into the completed structures, trying to work out what they were building. Ton was quickly certain it was a medical facility or lab of some kind, he recognized the ventilation and decontamination set-ups. At least one of the buildings under construction even had copper wires embedded into the ferrocrete, presumably to block out electromagnetic fields for their imagers.

He made sure to pull out and cut a few wires, leaving access hatches open. They wanted it to look like industrial sabotage, with a few deliberate clues of New Republic involvement so the Formids wouldn’t end up taking any flak for it.

If they were caught on security camera, hopefully Zsinj or his analysts would be looking into their own hiring process, rather than for any outside agency.

As Ton got back to the others, Face was starting to look anxious as all around them the Wraiths could hear the sounds of machinery powering down for the night, workers chatting as they packed up.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Kell told him. “Unless you want them get spotted or to blow before we get out of here.”

Darkness was falling, and they could see workers gathering by the main gates, shouting encouragement to each other.

“Last one,” Kell said, finally.

Ton could feel the tension ease as the Wraiths filed out of the area amongst the rest of the workers, clambering into the skimmers waiting outside. They made it several klicks down the road before the site went up in flames and they mingled with the others as they stumbled out of the vehicles, joining the mass chatter in pretend shock.

It was fully dark now, so no-one noticed when they peeled off into the woods and disappeared into the undergrowth. Literally disappeared, since Ton would have walked past the entrance to the Formid warrens if Tyria hadn't stopped and pulled back the covering. She stayed behind a little longer to cover their tracks in case anyone had noticed them leave.

They were treated to a victory feast by the Formids, during which Face spent a lot of time with an arm around Ton. It was a sweet torment but Ton still leant gladly into his embrace, knowing this might be his only opportunity.

As the feast broke up, the pilots mingled with the Formids, though it felt a little strange that there was so little chatter beyond their own voices and whichever of their hosts was responding to them.

Face got a little tipsy and Ton tried to distract himself by analysing their hosts as he had been asked. Their colorations seemed to define their ages and castes but there was also a noticeable dimorphism, which he assumed defined their genders. Ton wondered what they thought of the humans: Kell was the tallest of the Wraiths, with Face and Ton being fairly similar to each other, and they were all fairly similar in skin tone and hair color. The Formids didn’t seem to shy away from same-sized couples so there went Ton’s chances of working out if he got to claim to have been the bride.

Ton forced himself to wander away from Face to stop being distracted by his presence and found Tkak’tra, their guide from earlier, sitting in an alcove.

“Might I join you?” he asked.

“You do not stay with your mate?” she replied, head tilted to one side as though in curiosity. Ton wondered if that was a learned gesture, to make her feelings recognisable to humans, or if it was a standard Formid behavior. And he recognized that he was avoiding answering her question.

“I think he can manage without me for a few minutes,” Ton told her. “Besides, he seems to be having fun.”

Face, as always, was the center of a crowd, the motions of his hands suggesting he was acting out a story, probably a battle.

“Every moment with mate is a blessing,” Tkak’tra said.

Ton took a deep breath and sighed. “He’s not really my mate, you know.”

Her large membranous eyelids flicked down slowly over her eyes in what he suspected was a natural gesture of confusion. “I do not understand. You are paired?”

“We’re just wingmates, we fly together. That’s it.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Have bond feelings, same as mate.”

“I do,” Ton said. “But he doesn’t feel the same way.”

The look she gave him was universal - it clearly said 'I'm sorry you're such an idiot.' The only problem was, Ton didn't know how much he could trust the Formids' interpretation of Face's feelings.

Then, of course, they had another night of sharing a bed. Face didn’t offer again to sleep on the floor and, though Ton was tempted to, he couldn’t deny himself this opportunity to be close to him, even with his conversation with Tkak’tra repeating through his head.

The next day they trekked back to their pick-up site and returned to _Night Caller_ but Ton couldn’t stop thinking about it. Waking up with Face in his arms had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He might have woken the first day assuming he was somewhere else initially and imagined the other man a willing partner but he had realized before could do anything terrible like rub up against him.

The second morning had been better. Although he had been afraid Face would wake up and push him away, Ton hadn’t been able to bring himself to let go, taking in every detail of the moment and committing it to memory. He wished he dared make a move. Except for the fact he didn’t have much of a future to offer him.

Ton found his thoughts returning again and again to the Formids' feast, Face pressed against his side, or laughing as they took it in turns to drink from the shared goblet.

The mission was simple, on paper. Keep their cover, follow Trigit’s forces into the Morobe system, wait for the New Republic forces to spring their trap and then shoot the Imperials in the back.

But then _Implacable_ somehow figured out it was an ambush and they needed to act to keep the other ships in place long enough for the rest of their allies to arrive.

The Wraiths launched their X-wings to join their TIE fighters, except for Face who remained on _Night Caller_ in case he was needed for any last minute communications from Trigit.

They were outnumbered by the Imperial forces but for the element of surprise, and Ton should have been focusing on his own survival but without his usual wingman he was keeping one eye on _Night Caller_ for Face’s X-wing to emerge.

It still hadn’t when Ton watched _Provocateur_ ’s battery take out the corvette’s bridge. His heart stopped, believing Face was gone too. He somehow managed to let the others know the bridge was lost but he couldn’t say the words they must all be thinking too. Even saying Face’s name made his stomach churn and he tried to push the thought away. He couldn’t afford the distraction in the middle of a battle.

The long dark minutes which followed were some of the worst in Ton’s life. Worse even than waking up in hospital after his first injury. Losing Face was like losing a limb again, or more than that, like losing his heart, which felt like a block of ice in his chest. Perhaps one of the enemy would take him out too, it wasn’t as though he had much of a future anyway.

Then Face’s voice came over the comm and there was air and light in the world again. Ton took a deep breath and refocused.

It wasn’t an easy battle but they made it and Face was waiting for them by the time the Wraiths docked on _Home One_. Ton didn’t intend to say anything but when he was able to actually see Face whole and well with his own eyes, Ton couldn’t help himself from embracing him.

Face let him and Ton had almost worked up the courage to say something when Tyria pulled him away. “You’ve had your turn, you don’t get to hog him.”

Ton spent a sleepless night agonising over his decision. He had spent a long time feeling that he didn’t have a future, that it was inevitable the day would come when his chosen career caused him to be too badly injured to be cured without bacta and just hoped he would have done enough by then to be ready for death.

The reactions of those he had flirted with over the last couple of years had only enhanced that feeling but maybe he'd taken the wrong thing away from those encounters. Maybe they had been able to tell he wasn't seriously interested, or maybe it was them. Maybe they just hadn't been compatible. Face didn’t seem to have the same reaction towards him, if he could just trust the Formids’ words.

It could just be Ton reading too much into their friendship but he was starting to think it was more than that. And if that was true then he needed to do something about it. He didn’t have the time to waste. And more than that, Face's near miss reminded him that every one of his friends was risking death every time they flew out on a mission.

They were given leave on Talasea and Ton sat beside Face in the shuttle to the surface. He couldn’t seem to let Face out of his sight. Something of his feelings must have shown in his expression as the other Wraiths gave them space and Face seemed weirdly okay about this, letting Ton lean close to his side.

Ton felt his stomach churning as he pulled Face aside but he couldn’t go any longer without telling him how he felt.

Face followed Ton easily to a deserted area. “So, who are we pranking this time? I assume you have a plan in mind?”

He shook his head. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Alone?” Face looked confused.

“You know, for a moment, when _Night Caller_ ’s bridge was destroyed, I thought you’d died,” Ton started.

Face’s expression briefly softened but then he shook it off. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he said with a smile even Ton could tell was forced.

“Please, let me finish,” Ton said. “When you spoke over the comm and we knew, when I knew I hadn’t lost you after all, I realized I didn’t want anything to happen before I had the chance to share my feelings.”

“Your feelings?” Face echoed, sounding lost.

Ton couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes, not sure he would be able to go through with his confession if he did. “I’m in love with you.” There he’d finally said it.

There was a moment of silence before Face, voice unsteady, said, “Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”

Ton slowly looked up, unsure what he was reading in Face’s expression. “Do I look as though I’m joking?”

“No. But you can’t mean it. I don’t deserve your love,” Face told him.

Ton tried to be reassured that Face wasn’t outright rejecting him specifically though it made him sad to hear him arguing that he didn’t deserve happiness. He knew Face was still punishing himself for his actions as a child who'd had little say in his roles and hadn't known better.

“Hush,” Ton told him and stepped forward to shut him up with a kiss. Face didn’t pull away and his lips were even softer than Ton had imagined.

His hands had found their ways to Face’s shoulders and after a moment, Face started to return the kiss. Ton could feel his heart racing.

It was a perfect moment but Ton had to pull back, before he got too distracted. As Face blinked at him in surprise, Ton said, “Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“I mean, I’m not the one who jokes about what percentage machine he’s up to,’ Face said, trying to deflect but Ton was prepared, letting his hands drop down to hold onto Face’s own.

“I’m well aware of my issues,” Ton agreed. “But don’t think you’re getting off that easily. You weren’t much more than a child, you can’t blame yourself. Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Face said, with a wry smile. “Besides, it’s not that I’m blaming myself exactly. It’s just… this massive debt I owe.” He tried to pull his hands away but Ton didn’t let go.

“Even if you were right," Ton told him. "And, by the way, I don't agree, you're allowed to be happy.”

Face shook his head but didn’t try to argue. He’d stopped trying to get away too, which Ton hoped was a good sign.

“Well, you should bow to my superior intellect and experience,” he told him. “And I would very much like you to be happy with me? Unless, you don’t actually feel that way and I’m just embarrassing myself.”

Ton started to let go but Face’s expression, which had been stuck at shocked for most of Ton’s appeal, changed now to dismay and it was his turn to cling onto Ton. “Yes, of course I care for you too. Ton, how could you doubt that?”

Suddenly struggling through a lump in his throat, Ton managed to say, “I wasn’t sure I was worthy of the great Garik ‘Face’ Loran.”

“Just call me Garik, please,” Face asked. “Remind me that you want me for more than just my looks and acting skills.”

“Garik,” Ton said, and somehow the simple name was imbued with additional meaning. He reached out to Face again and pulled him close, his flesh and blood hand settling on the back of his head. Then they were kissing again, more intense this time as though they were afraid of running out of time.

“Just so you know, I do like your looks too,” Ton told him with his best rakish grin when they stopped to catch their breath.

“I like yours too,” Face said laughingly. “You know, I wasn’t sure I could share a bed with you back on Quettil without giving myself away.”

Ton smiled in return. “I thought it was all me - that you were just really good at faking it.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s good enough at faking it to fool telepathic aliens,” Face pointed out.

Ton shrugged. “I figured they’d picked up on my feelings and yours of friendship and gotten confused.” Then he registered what Face had said. “What did you think was going on if you didn’t believe the Formids could be mistaken?”

Face looked away. “I thought you found me attractive but didn’t want anything more. You wouldn’t be the first.”

“Well that’s definitely not true,” Ton reassured him, leaning in to kiss him once more.

Eventually they had to face the outside world again. They collected their room assignments, happy to learn they were sharing. When they got to the room and discovered it had only one bed, Ton couldn’t help laughing and, as soon as he met Face's eyes, they both collapsed with helpless laughter.

When they finally pulled themselves together Face suggested, "Maybe this time we can take advantage of it?"

"Absolutely," Ton said, pulling him down onto the bed. Maybe the Formids had known what they were talking about after all.


End file.
